


I'm not alone, Am I?

by shmoopy_myster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I tried at fluff, M/M, Stilinski Family Feels, did it work?, first fic evah, see for yourself :3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shmoopy_myster/pseuds/shmoopy_myster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by an anon on Tumblr who wanted Stiles feels ending in Sterek fluff~</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not alone, Am I?

Again. Today it’s happening again. After countless nights of curling up in a corner of his room with his father looming over him, with the most worrisome look a father could muster, attempting to breathe along with him, they’re back. His panic attacks that is. But this time, it’s not the same. Of course it isn’t, because this is Beacon Hills and Stiles will _never_ catch a break.This time though, he was visiting _her_. He’d arrived not 30 minutes ago with the odd conglomeration of Orchids, Forget-me-nots, and Daffodils- something his father would always bring his mother before she got sick, before werewolves, before when everything was right- when it just had to come all rushing back.

He sat there, in front of his mother’s grave, knees up to his chest, chin tucked down, trying to desperately get his breathe back. But he had sneaked out, didn’t want to talk to her in front of his father when they had visited earlier. It seemed like the best idea at the moment, but now it didn’t matter at all since there was no one to coach his breathing, no one to bring him back…

And that right there calmed him down. If he didn’t come back, who would take care of his dad? Who would make sure he kept his blood sugar at level? Deputy Lobella? No. Stiles was all his dad all left and vice-versa. So, with a quick “I love you, mom,” Stiles left her flowers and started walking. He’d left the jeep back home so as to not make any noise, because as much as he loved his baby, she just didn’t understand the concept of a stealth visit to your dead mother.

He’d been walking for 5 minutes when out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar, black, sleek Camaro pull up. But he didn’t stop. Why would he? So Derek could start slamming him into vertical surfaces (the old oak being the nearest one) or start growling at him, even though that was kinda hot…

Nope.

Not going there.

 _Focus_.

Or ignore, yeah, ignore, that’s always the better option.

But it’s kind of hard to ignore problems that are walking beside you letting out cave man grunts to get your attention, and when that didn’t work, stand right in your fucking way so you can slam into wall of muscle and amazing pecs. _Jesus_.

Derek had been pestering him for research on this week’s supernatural baddy and had apparently not been satisfied seeing as he was now standing in front of Stiles. No. _Looming_. And how does one loom if they’re pretty much the same height as the other? Whatever. He was glaring too.

And sniffing.

Wait what.

Why was he sniffing him?

“You haven’t been answering my texts and you weren’t at your house.” Derek states.

“Thank you Captain Obvious, much appreciated, now do you mind? I’m trying to get back home.” Derek’s eye roll is completely unnecessary.

“I need you to focus, Stiles. I already have to take care of three other teenagers. I don’t want to baby sit you too.”

“OK, First off, those three teenagers are your fault, second, I don’t want you to take care of me, I’ve got that covered and third I don’t need you in my face right today, not right now! Right now I have my own problems, right now it’s…” By the time he was finished he was slightly out of breathe, and to his horror his eyes had gotten a little moist. The kind of moisture that was enough show that he was about to cry, but not enough to actually spill over.

“Oh god” Stiles moaned, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He barely dared to not look up, expecting to see Derek smiling at his distress, but what he found instead was kind of…nice. A look of concern on Derek’s face wasn’t something he saw every day, and much less directed at him.

“I know.” Derek mumbled.

“knew what?” Stiles sniffed

“That…that you were sad. I could smell it. I could smell the salt.” Great. Did that mean that any werewolf in a 2 mile radius knew that he was crying like a child lost in a Walmart? He heard a sigh come from somewhere in Derek’s vicinity, the sound of boots crunching on the ground, and then the sound of a door opening, the passenger’s side of the Camaro, which was being held open for him. Hmm. Interesting…

“Get in.” Derek said in the most matter of fact way possible.

And if anyone else just happened to be cruising by the Beacon Hills Cemetery at 2:00 in the morning, saw the situation, they might get the wrong impression. And that might have to do with a scary looking dude trying to persuade another dude into ‘getting in’ black tinted window car.

“wha…why?”

“just…get.in.” he ground out as if he was being forced to do it. Which, rude. But, like he said, ‘scary looking dude’. You can’t really argue with that, so he got in. Albeit precociously and with a heavy amount of suspicious glances casted Derek’s way. Hey, he might be the star of Stiles recent ‘happy time’ fantasies but one can never be too careful.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me? You’re not going to kill me right? Just because I cried in front of you? Please don’t tell anyone about that. Not even Jackson, _especially_ Jackson. I’ll pay you! I don’t have much since I’m saving for repairs on my baby but-“ He was oh so graciously cut off from his ramblings with a

“Stiles!”

“…what?”

“Shut up.”

The rest of the ride was in relative silence. Relative because Stiles kept trying to fiddle with the things in the car and kept getting his hands slapped away. Soon, though, Derek pulled up in front of Casa de Stilisnki. And parked. Why did he park if he was just going to drop him off- Nope. Scratch that. Derek was now getting out of the car. Crossing his front lawn. Using the tree next to his bedroom window to climb up and into his room. Huh. And here Stiles was still sitting in the car starring after his ass. And a good excuse too because that was some ass. He was man enough to admit it.

So with nothing else left to do, he got out and trudged up into his house and into his room. Stealth mode as activated as he could get it. When he closed his door and turned on the light, he still jumped (because he’s just that much of a sissy. OK) at the sight of Derek lounging on his bed, arms casually crossed behind his head, lets crossed, shoes and jacket off, a smug smirk that said “ I still got it.”

“uh” he offered intelligently. “what.”

But then he sighed because of-fucking-course. Why would Derek suddenly be nice to him? Just because he was crying? No. he was just here to make sure that Stiles did his research for him on a fucking Friday night, er, Saturday morning. He gave another dramatic sigh and then plopped down in his computer chair.

“what are you doing?” came Derek’s question

“what do you think I’m doing? I’m going to research that stupid pixie shit you keep bothering me about so that I can try to be useful to your pack for goddam once. That Ok with you? Ok, good” He huffed, then spun back around to concentrate on waking up his desktop.

“It’s your pack too…” was what was barely even heard. Barely. But Stiles still got it.

Just to make sure, though, he spun back around and asked “what?” Derek gave a combo of head AND eye roll. Unnecessary by the way.

“I said: it’s your pack too. You might hang around Scott more than you do with us, but…I…we see you as part of the pack. And… You are useful, more than you know...”

Wow. That was the most Derek has ever said to him, the nicest too.

“oh… um, really? Wait. Was that why you were driving by the cemetery? Not because you really are a complete creeper but because of some weird werewolf take-care-of-pack thingy?”

And without waiting for an answer, Stiles migrated from his chair to the edge of his bed, next to Derek’s crossed legs. Derek, for his part, instead of answering him, asked his own question.

“Why were you at the cemetery?” And why that simple question all that Stiles had been trying to avoid came rushing back.

“Oh, that’s um, nothing, I was just visiting-never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He gave a grim smile in an attempt to deter to werewolf. But he should have known better.

“So they don’t matter?”

“Of course she matters!” he answered indignantly, then his eyes widened as he realized what he’d revealed. Derek was sitting up now and they were a lot closer than before. The older male just sat there patiently, waiting for Stiles to go on without being pushed.

“It’s…I was …visiting. My moth-my mom’s anniversary is today and I just wanted to…I just wanted to-“ And what good fucking timing for yet another panic attack to make its appearance.

As if he hadn’t been humiliated enough recently. But he suddenly found himself enveloped in a pair of well-muscled arms and a far off voice telling him to “breathe, Stiles. Listen to me and breathe with me.” When he’d finally managed to calm down, Derek had managed to get Stiles to rest half of his body on top of his so that they could lie down. But as his luck would have it, he was too exhausted to try and push away, to laugh it off and pretend he didn’t need this.

He may have drifted in and out of sleep a few times due to some sniffing going around in his neck area and the tickling of stubble, but that is no one’s business but his own. His and his Alpha’s business. Heh. All in all, a good night’s rest. Because nothing was better than knowing that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to be, and that he had a pack and an overly cuddly Alpha to back him up.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic EVER  
> feedback would be much appreciated   
> I know this isn't "OMG what wonderful writing and characterization!"  
> but I certainly wouldn't mind hearing your thoughts on how to improve~


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